Staying Alive
by Benevolently Cynical
Summary: Griffin was Magnolia's best friend until he disappeared when they were five. Now she's eighteen and aching to get out of college. Then Griffin shows up and her life becomes more adventurous than she ever imagined it could be.
1. Chapter 1

Our mothers had been best friends since college. They saw each other nearly every day, and were the maids of honor at each other's weddings. And when they had us less than a year apart, they promised that they would raise us together and that we would become best friends, like they were. But then something terrible happened.

I was five, and it was the day before Griffin's sixth birthday. We were playing hide-and-seek in the forest behind my house. It was our favorite game. He had won for the fifth time in a row. I was getting mad; because I was sure he was cheating. He would yell out, "Come and get me, Mola!", and then when I ran to the source of his voice, he wouldn't be there; he'd be standing thirty feet away, with his bright red hair all tangled and his self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face.

Finally, after Griffin's seventh victory, I threw myself at him and started pummeling him as hard as I could, yelling, "Griffin you cheater! I hate you!" He stood the abuse for a bit, but then disappeared. I tried to pull my fist back in time, but I still hit the huge rock that we had been standing on with enough force to bruise my knuckles. I broke down and started crying, holding my fist to my chest.

I didn't even sense him approaching, but suddenly I felt a breath of air push my wispy blonde hair back from my face. Then I felt his gentle hands take hold of my curled fist, and drew it slowly to him. He looked at it, and then he looked at my face. I glared back through red, teary eyes. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Mola."

I jerked my hand back and turned away from him, like the immature five year old that I was. And, like the stubborn almost-six-year-old that he was, he walked around until he was facing me again, and apologized again. I glared at him again and jumped off the rock, running towards my house. He caught up with me and tackled me to the ground.

"Let me go! Let me go Griffin, I hate you!" I kept yelling as he struggled to control me. We were out of hearing distance from the house, so my mother couldn't hear us and break it up. Finally, when I gave up and satisfied myself with giving him the death glare of all death glares. He put his face close to mine and whispered, "Do you want to know a secret?"

My eyes widened as he whispered in my ear how he beat me so many times at hide-and-seek. I looked at him, searching for any hint of a lie in his dark grey eyes. "Promise?" I demanded. He promised. "No crossies!" He let go of my arms and held his hands out to me to show that he wasn't crossing any of his fingers. Satisfied, I got up and hugged him. We chased each other to the house, and hugged him again as his mother came to pick him up.

Before he left, he grabbed my arm and whispered, "You won't tell, will you?" I held out my hands and said, "Promise." Then he left. I watched their old Chevy turn the bend, then ran into the house to eat dinner.

It was the next day that I found out. There had been a gas leak, and the whole house had blown up, setting fire to multiple neighboring houses. When my mother tried to tell me with tears in her eyes that Griffin and his parents weren't coming back, I refused to believe her. Because I knew Griffin's secret. I sat down with my favorite stuffed zebra toy and waited for Griffin to come back. My mother left me alone, thinking that I was too young to understand what she meant. I understood fully. But I knew that Griffin wasn't dead. So I waited.


	2. Chapter 2

I waited and waited. From the time Griffin disappeared until I was thirteen, my mom would catch me on my knees, by my bed each night, praying to God to bring Griffin back. She would try to explain over and over that he was dead, and that he wasn't coming back. I refused to believe her.

I never had any more close friends after Griffin left. He was almost always on my mind. I would hear his voice every time I went into the forest behind our house, every time I watched SpongeBob, Griffin's favorite TV show. In school, the only thing I would do was doodle pictures of us. When I was seven it was stick figures holding hands, but as I grew older, the pictures grew more detailed and fantastic. Griffin grew taller and older, and he grew wings. But we were always holding hands in my pictures. Sometimes I would rifle through my old drawings, and see how he and I had evolved.

Slowly, however, the prayers became more infrequent. I started high school when I was fourteen, and I made new friends. Even though I never accepted the fact that Griffin was dead, I eventually realized that he wasn't going to come back for me. So I moved on with my life. The drawings, however, never stopped. I would lose interest in math class, and by the time the period was over, there would be Griffin again, always in my heart and in my notebook. He always had wings, and he was always holding my hand.

When I was sixteen, I found a picture of me and Griffin in the attic as we were cleaning out for our move. He was pulling my blonde hair as I was trying to smile at the camera. My mother had been so fond of the picture she had framed it.

The next day I dyed my hair black. I don't know why I did it, but my mother had a fit. I lost my laptop and phone for two weeks. But I liked the new look; whenever the blond started showing, I'd re-dye it. Eventually my parents gave up and started grounding me.

I had an attitude problem in high school, and was sent to the principal multiple times. They made me meet up with the school counselor, but nothing helped. I would always snap at my teachers if they tried to berate me for not paying attention, and I would badmouth the principal. It was a wonder I didn't get expelled; I had been caught smoking a few times, and there was a close call with a cop and a six pack of beer in my boyfriend's truck.

By the time I was fifteen, the memory of Griffin had faded. Not into complete obscurity, but I could no longer recall the exact color of his eyes, or how his hair looked after we tumbled in the grass and leaves of fall. Although, even though I never told anyone, I never stopped waiting for him. Never. He was always in a small corner of my mind, making fun of me and holding my hand.

I graduated when I was sixteen, and my mom immediately enrolled me in the London Community College of Education. I guess she was trying to keep me out of trouble by keeping me busy. I didn't really mind, since I was able to get a full scholarship. I lived with my mom because I was saving up all I could; I wanted to travel the world when I graduated. I wanted to see everything there was to see.

That was part of the reason I decided to major in Spanish; it was a pretty general language, and I would probably be paid better in an area where I could speak both English and Spanish. Which was good, because I really wanted to visit South America, and see Machu Picchu.

I wondered what Griffin would think of me travelling the world. Would he be proud, or would he have wanted me to settle down somewhere and raise my own family?

He was in my dreams too. We were young again, and he was holding my bruised hand. As I looked at him, his face started glowing, and he sprouted wings. Then he disappeared, and I would wake up. I hated waking up.


	3. Chapter 3

As I walked down the hallway, my thoughts jumped to the summer. _Three weeks. I can do this. _I had suffered four years of peer pressure, bullies, and cliques in high school; I could deal with a few more weeks in community college. I jammed my headphones into my ears and turned Alesana's "The Murderer" all the way up. I was fiddling with my iPod, looking for other songs, when I ran into someone.

I looked up; ready to yell at the intruder of my personal space to piss off, but it was just Olivia. She smiled as I glared at her, and shouted so I could hear her over my music, "HEY WANNA COME TO THE PUB TONIGHT?" Her dad owned a pub not far from the school, and we'd go there sometimes after school to work on homework and share a few pints.

I paused my music halfway through her sentence, so I was deaf by the time she finished. "Not tonight, Ollie, I need to study."

She snorted. "Since when do YOU study?"

I glared again. "Since tonight. Now piss off." I shoved past her and continued on my way.

I wasn't in the mood for beer or conversation. Thankfully Ollie didn't follow; she sensed that I would have given her what for. I walked outside of the school, saw the rain, and sighed. From the first day we had moved to London, I had hated it. Everything was crowded and the people were different. I was from Wilton, so the city was a new experience for me. Of course, I had gotten used to it after a few years, but the initial revulsion never left.

I walked about a mile to my apartment that I shared with my mom. She and dad had split up when I was fourteen, which I was fine with. I had never got along with my dad anyways; it didn't help that my mom caught him cheating with her boss, Charles.

I got home and flopped onto my bed. I watched as the colors from my glass wind chime danced along the painted walls of my room. I sighed and looked through my small window. Everything seemed so bleak and hopeless today. I got out my notebook and started drawing. Soon Griffin's head appeared, along with his torso and a section of his wings. _Why wings? _I asked myself. I never did understand it. But whenever I drew, I always drew Griffin. And he always had wings.

I heard a knock at my door. "Come in," I mumbled. My mother walked in and quietly shut the door behind her. She sat down on my bed and looked at what I was drawing.

"It's always him, isn't it," she said quietly. I nodded. "It's not just because it's… today?" I shook my head.

"He's always there, mom. Always," I whispered. She nodded and stroked my still-black hair. "Well, I think that even though it's… today… I think that you should go hang out with Ollie. She called me earlier; she seemed worried about you."

I didn't reply. I didn't need to. She knew what I was thinking. How could I go out and talk to people on a day like this?

"Magnolia, this isn't right. It's been thirteen years. He's not coming back."

I normally would have been up in arms and yelling at her by now. But today was different. It _had _been thirteen years. And he still hadn't come back for me. Maybe he wasn't going to. Or maybe he had a better reason for staying away. I didn't know.

I sighed. "Okay, mom, I'll go. But I probably won't stay long." She looked startled, surprised that I hadn't defended Griffin. "Oh, okay. Well, here's some money for dinner, in case you need it. Call me if you need anything."

I nodded, and went into my bathroom to get ready. I ran a comb through my hair and changed shirts. I didn't bother putting any makeup on; I rarely did, and today wouldn't be any different. I wouldn't let it be any different. I grabbed my bag and ran out the door after hugging my mom goodbye.

I walked to the pub, calling Ollie on the way. "Hey Ollie, I'm on my way over. Sorry for the little episode today; I was just in a bad mood."

"Are you sure you're okay?" She asked. I could hear the music from the pub over the phone.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I lied.

"Okay, well I'll see you in a few. Oh, I gotta go; there's a cute guy who just walked in." She hung up. I smiled and shook my head. Ollie was always getting in _that _kind of trouble. She'd hang out at the bar and then go get laid with some stranger. Her dad was usually too busy tending the bar to take notice, or even care.

I walked into the Mellow Toad Pub and was instantly assaulted by a conflagration of lights, sounds, and inebriated humans. I closed my eyes, steeled myself, and walked through the crowd. It wasn't that bad; I just preferred peace, quiet, and open spaces to crowded bars. I spotted Ollie at the bar; she was flipping her blonde hair, obviously flirting with a good looking guy. I grinned and sat down at the nearest booth.

Horace, Ollie's dad, brought me a beer. That was one of the few things I liked about England; 18 year olds were allowed to drink alcohol. I watched the people around me. Most of them were familiar, but there were a few new faces. None of them caught my eye, though, except the cute guy that Ollie was talking to. I got out my Calculus book and started working problems.

Barely five minutes had passed and my integration problem had morphed into a pair of wings and dark eyes. I was so intent on my drawing that I barely registered the fact that someone had sat across from me. I ignored the presence; it'd go away eventually. Everyone always did.

After ten minutes the presence still hadn't disappeared. The angel was almost finished; this one was five years old again. His dark eyes stared back at me, and there was a small shadow at his side with lightly-colored hair, and her right hand was enclosed in the angel's.

"Nice drawing." I looked up at the intruder, annoyed. He was a squarely built black man with white hair, and he was staring at me, not the drawing. I glared at him, attempting to convey my annoyance in the clearest way possible. His face remained serene, yet intense.

"Thanks," I finally muttered. He smiled briefly and looked around him. My eyes flickered over to Horace; he was oblivious, busily serving the crowd of people at the bar. "Do you want something?" I asked, less than politely.

"Griffin O'Connor."


	4. Chapter 4

_Griffin's alive. _Thought one. He was alive!

_This guy's trouble. _Thought two. Whoever this bloke was, he meant trouble; for Griffin and possibly for me.

_I need to protect Griffin. _Thought three. If Griffin was alive, and this guy was out to hurt him, then I had to protect him, in whatever way I could.

So I said, "What about him?" He chuckled and said, "Whatever you can tell me about him. I'm prepared to offer a sizeable sum for any information you can give me."

I shrugged. "I mean, he was my friend growing up until he and his parents got blown up in a freak accident. I don't really remember much of him; I was only five when it happened."

He stared at me for a long time. I returned his stare. My lie was easy enough to carry out; I was almost beginning to believe it myself. The man seemed to be making calculations as he looked at me. I felt exposed and vulnerable. I didn't like it.

"Anything else you need to know?" I prodded rudely. He stared at me for another few seconds, and then smiled and said, "I think I found out all I need to know. Thank you. Have a nice day." He glanced once more at my drawing, then stood up and walked out.

I let out a breath I wasn't aware I had been holding. I looked around me. Ollie and the attractive male – American, maybe? – were busy getting… acquainted with each other. Horace was still tending the bar; he glanced over at me and winked. I felt a small flood of relief; he had been watching the whole time. I resumed my math/Griffin drawing.

About an hour later, I saw Ollie and American Adonis leave the pub, laughing quietly to themselves. I sighed. It was going to be one of those nights, then. Oh well. I'd hear all about it come Monday. I had finished most of my studying, so I collected my bag, said goodbye to Horace and walked out the door. The rain was still falling; I welcomed it by lifting my face to catch the raindrops. The pub was stifling, and the cool rain felt good.

I walked down the sidewalk, listening to some heavy metal as I passed young couples and homeless drunks. I knew the way by heart, so I didn't pay much attention to my surroundings. Therefore it was a surprise when someone grabbed me from behind. I twisted around, trying to defend myself and get a look at the person who was daring to assault me. All I saw was a leather jacket and stormy blue eyes. My attacker pushed a rank-smelling cloth over my nose and mouth. That was the last thing I remembered.

I woke up with my mouth covered with a piece of duct tape and duct taped to a chair. Whoever kidnapped me sure had a liking for the stuff.

I looked around me. I was in a rather dark room. There were pictures of the man who had visited me last night – was it last night? How long had it been? – plastered all over the walls. The artist in me shuddered; they were awful drawings; the subject was barely recognizable. I was facing a couch which was in front of a huge flat screen TV. And on the ratty old couch was the bastard who kidnapped me.

I screamed in rage. Unfortunately, the duct tape sort of ruined the effect. It sounded more demure than I would have wished. The guy just chuckled and continued playing his stupid video game.

I screamed even louder. Who was this? And what did he want with me? And why did he kidnap me? I kept voicing my muffled outrage until my throat became sore. The guy never even looked away from his video game. Bastard.

I finally stopped and consoled myself with glaring daggers at him. I would have attempted to walk my chair over there, but my legs were duct taped too. I waited for several minutes before hatching one of my stupider plans.

I threw my weight to one side, making the chair fall over. I thought that might tempt him to come over and talk to me. That proved how stupid I really was. He paused his game, threw his head back and laughed for five minutes straight.

"Nice try, love." That's all he said. Then he went back to his game.

I was infuriated and humiliated. I was just lying there on the floor, gagged and duct taped to a chair. Take me back to community college any day. And this asshole wasn't even acknowledging my presence any more.

I decided to try the tears trick. I had always been able to fake tears, a precious skill I had used many times in the past. I decided it was probably the best time to utilize it now. It took a few minutes, but soon the tears started dripping from my eyes and onto the concrete floor.

My kidnapper looked over and saw that I was crying. He leaned his head against the back of the couch and sighed. Then he got up from his stupid couch and came over to me.

He sat my chair up, but instead of glaring at him I just looked at my knees and continued sniffling and crying. He sighed again.

"Crocodile tears aren't going to do you any good, love. You're still stuck here, and you'll remain stuck here until you tell me what you know."

I looked up at him pointedly. His blue eyes stared into my green ones. "Okay, I'll take it off if you promise not to scream. Not that screaming would do you any good anyways; I just hate loud noises. So if you'll keep it down, eh?"

He pulled the duct tape off my mouth slowly so as not to take the majority of skin along with it. I worked my jaw, loosening the cramped muscles whilst I thought of different ways to tell him off.

"You know, I probably wouldn't have tied you down if you hadn't insisted on fighting me when I tried to take you with me."

That did it. I took a deep breath and started to tell him off. "If I hadn't insisted on fighting? _Seriously?_ A stranger takes hold of me from behind, without warning and without explaining as to why, and you expect me to go along with them as if everything's hunky dory? What kind of idiot do you think I am? Of course I fought! And why do you have me here anyways? What do you want from me? I never did anything to you; I don't even know anything! I'm a community college student studying Spanish, for Pete's sake! What makes you think I know anything? And I'll have you know that I – "

He put the duct tape back over my mouth. He put his hands on his knees so that he was eye-to-eye with me. I glared at him. He smirked. "What did I tell you about loud noises? You're worse than a drowning cat. Now claws in, kitten, and maybe if you're a good girl I'll take off the duct tape."

I stopped talking and waited. He smirked and said, "Ready to tell me what you know?"

I nodded, and kept silent. He took the duct tape off again, much more roughly this time. "Now. Tell me what you know about Roland."

"Who's Roland?" I demanded.

He rolled his eyes. "The black man with the white hair. The Paladin. What do you know about him? What did he tell you?"

I glared at him. "I don't know anything about him, except that he sat down in my booth, disturbed my peace and quiet, and brought back painful memories that I had successfully buried until then. He didn't tell me anything, and what's a Paladin?"

He looked at me for a long moment. "You're sure he didn't tell you anything?"

It was my turn to roll my eyes. "I'm not stupid. Of course he didn't tell me anything, and if he did, believe me, I would have told you, because at the moment you're the only one who can get me out of this damned duct tape. Now what's a Paladin and get me out of this damned duct tape, please."

He chuckled, and said, "I believe you." Then he put the duct tape back over my mouth again.

My eyes widened in rage. I started screaming muffled obscenities at him again. He chuckled and went back to his video game, which made me scream louder.

A few hours later, and my throat was so dry it could have been used for sandpaper. I was glaring at him again. He hadn't even looked in my direction once, let alone get off that damned couch of his. My eyes were starting to close of their own accord. Screaming one's lungs out got tiring after a while.

I must have dozed off for a few hours because when I finally woke up the Blue Eyed Bastard was gone from his beloved couch and the telly was off.

I was cramped and sore from hours in the chair. I looked around me for something to get me out of the duct tape. Unfortunately the bastard wasn't stupid; he had placed me far away from any sort of table or other structure with edges. I was stuck.

About half an hour of unsuccessfully trying to hop my way across the floor, the hopelessness struck. _I am becoming such an emotional mess,_ I thought to myself as tears made their way down my face. _Well duh, you're kidnapped and alone, and you don't know why and you don't know what's going to happen to you. Of course your emotions are in shreds. _

Suddenly he was crouching in front of me, looking into my face. I didn't remember hearing him come in; I must have been preoccupied with bawling my stupid eyes out. I was surprised to see concern in his eyes. Like he actually cared about me, or something.

"Are Kitten's eyes leaking, or are those real tears I see there?" He whispered softly.

I glared at him through tear-stained eyes and mumbled a retort. I was exhausted from sitting in a chair all day, and didn't feel up to the whole screaming thing again. He chuckled at my childishness and undid my gag. I had nothing to say, so I kept quiet.

Then he surprised me by cutting the bonds on my feet and hands. I tried to stand, but my muscles were so cramped I stumbled and fell. He caught me and picked me up.

I tried to fight him, thinking he was going to harm me, but he just held me firm and carried me to the couch. He laid me on it and covered me with a blanket. Then he walked away.

I called after him. "Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"

He looked at me sadly. "Go to sleep, Kitten. We'll talk in the morning."

I nodded. For some reason I trusted him. As I drifted back to sleep, I could have sworn I felt a kiss on my hair. But it must have been my imagination, because when I opened my eyes to see if it was real, there was no one there.


	5. Chapter 5

I woke up stiff, cramped, and on a ratty old couch. I sat up and stretched. I sniffed myself and gagged. I needed a shower, badly; I was still in the same clothes I had been in the night I was abducted, and I had no idea how long ago that had been.

I probably should have been more concerned about my welfare, but considering the fact that my current state wasn't really that bad compared to my old life, I didn't worry too much. I had been a little worried about my mum, until I figured that if she were in trouble she'd probably be duct taped to a chair beside me.

I stood up and looked around. The room was empty. The black man – Roland's – face was still plastered over the walls. I searched the numerous desks and shelves for some food, but I found none. All the doors I tried were locked; apparently I was still a prisoner. Lovely.

I was shuffling through some papers in a desk when I saw it. It was a black and white photo of us – me and Griffin – when we were toddlers. We were both learning to walk when the photo was taken. I was sitting on the floor, crying my eyes out. Griffin had apparently mastered his steps, because he was walking over to me. His hand was outstretched towards mine.

I wiped away a tear I didn't realize had escaped my eye. So the Blue Eyed Bastard was Griffin. He was alive. I wasn't crazy. What had happened to him?

Twenty minutes later found me curled up on the couch, still holding the photograph. Suddenly I heard a "whoosh" noise, and the guy who kidnapped me – Griffin – walked out from behind the TV screen. He took one look at my face and the photo in my hands and stopped short.

He averted his gaze when I tried to make eye contact. "Thirteen years." I said listlessly. "Thirteen years since you left."

He looked down at his feet. "I know."

"Thirteen years. Thirteen years, and you never came for me. Not once." My voice was barely above a whisper. I was standing now, the photo still clutched in one shaking hand.

He looked up at me; his eyes were full of defiance and sadness and shame and anger. "I couldn't. Roland – the Paladins – they would have come after you."

I stared at him. "You mean like they did last night?" He dropped his gaze again. "It wasn't safe, Mola."

That was my breaking point. I ran to him and hugged him as tightly as I could. "I missed you, Griffin. For years. I waited for you. For thirteen years." His arms enclosed around me, holding me as tightly as I held him.

"I know, Mola. I know." He stroked my hair. I nuzzled my face closer into his shoulder.

Suddenly his hand froze above my hair. "Your hair. It's black."

I nodded into his chest. "Yeah. So?"

"Why the bloody hell did you dye your hair?" He asked incredulously.

I let go of him and said, "Because I felt like it. It's my bloody hair; I'll do whatever the hell I like with it!" I snapped at him. He glared at me. "What's it to you, anyways? You always teased me about my hair; called me Straw Head."

He chuckled. "Ah, yes. Straw Head. That was a good one."

I rolled my eyes and hugged him tightly again; this time for only a second before I jumped back and said, "I missed you."

His tumultuous blue eyes softened. "I missed you too, Mola." He drew me into another hug. He pushed me away after a second and pantomimed gagging. I kicked him in the shin lightly. "Just tell me where the shower is, you twat."

He chuckled and led me to a door which he unlocked. "That's really a great idea; locking the bathroom. For all you know, I could have pissed under your couch cushions." His eyes widened and he ran over to check. I chuckled and closed the bathroom door behind me, locking it for good measure.

After a half-hour-long shower, I felt good as new. When I walked out of the shower, I found some clothes that must have been Griffin's at one point, because they were worn men's clothes. I dressed and went out to find Griffin. He wasn't there, and all the doors were still locked.

I noticed something on the TV; someone had left a sticky note.

_Went out, back later. _

The boy had a way with words.

I sighed and crossed my legs on the floor as I surveyed the collection of video games stacked beside the TV. Call of Duty, Halo, Rainbow Six… Griffin had some serious violence issues. I pulled out World at War and started playing. His scores weren't too bad; I had to work to beat most of them.

It was probably a couple hours later when I heard a "whoosh" and Griffin walked out from behind the flat screen TV. I glanced up at him quickly and then went back to my game; the stupid zombies weren't dying.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I heard him growl.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, love, I'm playing World at War. I had no other entertainment in this bloody place." I shot back.

He snorted. "World at War? Seriously? That's one of the crappiest games I own."

"You mean besides Halo Reach and Black Ops? Probably. But I enjoy it. The Spaz on here is fantastic; I love setting people on fire with a shotgun. Never gets old."

"Touché. Flamethrowers are better though; they're more effective in the trenches."

"Agreed; flamethrowers are one of the sexiest weapons ever invented. Now do you have any food? I'm starved." He laughed and threw me a paper bag. I paused the game and opened the bag. The smell of fresh fish and chips made my mouth water. I dug in while he stood and watched.

Between bites I said, "So, uh, when are you planning on taking me back?"

He shrugged and started going over some papers at a nearby desk. "Not for awhile. Until things settle down, at least."

I nodded. "Sounds reasonable. At least it would if I weren't locked in a room with a guy who likes to abduct random college students off the street. But seriously. Why am I here? Not that I mind; it's not that bad, considering."

He chuckled as he sorted through various drawings and photographs. "You're here because you're not safe out there. Roland was going to kill you, so I had to get to you before he did. So now I'm keeping you where he can't find you, until he either gives up or dies trying. Personally I'm hoping for the latter."

I started. "Why would he want to kill me? I never did anything."

"Because you have valuable information about me and my whereabouts, supposedly."

I snorted. "Yeah, I'm practically drowning in information as I'm cooped up in a small, dark room filled with preschool level art."

He looked genuinely offended. "They're not that bad!"

I snorted again. "I drew better than that when I was six." He glared, then flopped down on the couch beside me and stole the controller. I mumbled my protest as I moved closer to him and ate my fish. He wasn't half bad.

"There's a sniper; watch out! No, over there! Turn around! CRAP THERE'S A GUY IN A TREE GUY IN A TREE MOVE!" I started pointing at the screen and screaming.

"I SEE HIM I SEE HIM DON'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO!" He yelled right back at me.

I looked up at him; his attention was still focused on the screen in front of him. I smiled and snuggled closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder. He didn't even skip a beat, but he whispered, "It's good to have you back, Mola." I didn't reply; I only smiled and closed my eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

An hour later we were still on the couch, and watching SpongeBob episodes. Griffin was sitting cross-legged, my head was in his lap, and he was absently fiddling with a lock of my hair.

"So where was the first place you went when you got your license?" He asked.

I thought a moment. "I drove over an hour to the beach. I watched the stars all night until I fell asleep. Then the next morning I got in trouble with my mom for staying out all night." I chuckled at the memory.

"Did anyone go with you?" He asked. I snorted. "I wasn't exactly Miss Congeniality, Griffin. The friends I've had were few and far between, and none of them were as special as you." Griffin smiled and continued playing with my hair.

I looked up at him. "Okay, your turn, Griffin." He looked down at me incredulously. "What?"

"Your turn." I repeated. He looked away and sighed. He looked like he had aged ten years in the one moment. "Not now, Mola. Maybe when you're older." He glanced at me and winked. The look was gone, and he was himself again. I stuck my tongue out at him. He could be so vexing sometimes, just like when we were young.

He pulled a lock of my hair, and I squealed. I smacked him on the shoulder. "Jerk!" He chuckled and gave my hair another tug for good measure. He glanced up at the time and jumped up, nearly spilling me off of the couch.

"What the hell was that for?" I grumbled as I maneuvered myself into an upright position. Griffin was already across the room, shuffling through papers and writing things on his hand with a sharpie.

"Griffin. What's going on?" I asked again. He mumbled something about Paladins again, but I didn't hear him. "Griffin. Talk to me. What's going on? Is everything okay?"

He whirled on me. "No, everything is not okay! I'm going to be late and there's two of the Paladin's best men out there trying to kill someone and I need to find my baseball bat, so where the hell is it?" By the time he finished he was yelling.

I just stood and looked at him. He breathed heavily for a few moments before settling down and looking away ashamedly. "Sorry, Mola. I'm just in a hurry and I can't find my bat and I need to go before someone gets killed."

I didn't bother asking questions; I knew he'd tell me eventually. That was one thing I knew for certain about Griffin; he trusted me. So I handed him his baseball bat which had been leaning against the TV. When he took it I kissed him on the cheek quickly before saying, "Go on, go save someone's ass. Just don't duct tape him and bring him back here, okay?"

He smiled and said, "I don't think I could handle you being here, let alone some other idiot." I stuck my tongue out at him again. He gave me a quick hug and ran out one of the doors, locking it securely behind him.

I was a prisoner again. I sighed and went back to watching SpongeBob.

Six hours later found me sitting on the floor, surrounded by crayons, pencils, markers, and paper. It was a good thing Griffin kept plenty of supplies to fuel his maniacal drawings of Roland. I had convinced myself that I was going to wait for Griffin to tell me about Paladins and what they were and why they wanted to kill him.

Suddenly I heard a "whoosh" noise and looked up. Griffin entered the room with his baseball bat. What shocked me was the amount of blood on both him and the bat. I jumped up and ran over to him. He was breathing heavily, but he didn't look injured. I cupped my hands to his face, and then started touching his torso, looking for any major injuries.

"What the hell happened, Griffin? Whose blood is this? Are you hurt?" He smiled tiredly and said, "Oh, so you were worried about me?" I glared at him.

"Of course I was. Who else is going to get me out of this bloody room? Now what happened and whose blood is this?"

"Hard to tell, actually. I think some of it might actually be mine. Bloody Paladin nicked me with a knife just below my ribs."

"You know, one day you're going to have to tell me about these Paladins and why you seem so intent on getting in trouble with them." He said nothing. I pulled up his shirt. Yep, there was about a three-inch gash just below his right lowest rib. I probed it gently; he sucked in a breath.

"I don't think it needs stitches, but the bleeding needs to be stopped. Take off your shirt and hold it against the wound until I find some bandages." He complied.

"They're in the bathroom under the sink," He called out as I ignored his toned body and ran into the bathroom. I came out with plenty of gauze and some disinfectant.

"Sit." I ordered him. He sat on the couch and didn't move. I could see his eyes twinkling with amusement. "So you're going to play nurse, are you?" He said in his curious accent.

I ignored him and dabbed the cut with the disinfectant. He hissed and grabbed my wrist. I wrench out of his grasp and glared. "Stop, Griffin. It's going to get infected if I don't clean it. Now stop being such a baby and hold still."

"Easy for you to say," he grimaced as I reapplied the disinfectant. "You're not the one with a three-inch gash in your side." I chuckled.

"Okay, big boy, stand up." I ordered. He sighed and stood up. I wrapped the gauze carefully around his torso, securing it with a safety pin. I sensed him looking at me the whole time; I just continued working. He was probably making a silly face anyways.

Finally I was finished. "Okay you can put your shirt back on, Adonis."

He smirked. "You know you like it, Kitten." I scrunched my nose at the nickname.

"Yes, I'm practically swooning. Now go get me something to eat; I'm starved." I didn't look at him as I said it; of course I liked it. What girl in her right mind wouldn't like having a muscled, shirtless guy around? Of course I wouldn't tell him that; his ego would go through the roof. Well, even more through the roof.

He grinned and walked out one of the doors. He returned ten minutes later with a bag full of Chinese takeout. He still didn't have a shirt on.

"What? I'm just showing off your superior nursing skills." He said defensively when I shot an accusatory glare at him. I shook my head and took the food from him. We sat on the couch and ate while a Full House marathon ran in the background. We finished and somehow my feet ended up in his lap. He would stroke them absentmindedly; tickling them once in a while to evoke a squeal and half-hearted kick aimed in his general direction.

"Griffin?"

"Hm?" He was completely engrossed in tracing the sole of my foot.

"Can we stay like this forever?" He chuckled. "Sure, Mola. As long as you want."

I sat up, taking my feet out of his lap. He glared at me. "I'm serious, Griffin."

His face softened. He reached over and pulled a lock of my hair. "Your blonde is showing."

I pushed his hand away. "So that's a no?"

Griffin sighed. "I don't know, Mola. I have other responsibilities."

I snorted. "Like getting your ass kicked?"

"You should have seen the other guy."

"No thanks. I'm sure it's not a pretty picture." He chuckled. "And why do you think that, oh suspicious one?"

I moved close to him, running my finger across his collar bone. He looked at me stoically, but I could hear his breath quicken. I leaned close to him, caressing the hairs on the back of his neck. I put my lips to his ear, brushing them across his cheek as I did so. I had wanted to do this for so long.

"Because I know your secret, Griffin."

He didn't move. "Don't worry, I promise I won't tell a soul." I whispered as I inhaled his scent. He smelled like the ocean and disinfectant. He pulled my hands off his neck and chest and locked them in his own. I looked questioningly at him, confused I had done something wrong.

"No crossies," he growled, and before I had time to grin, he leaned forward and swiftly put his mouth on mine. I grinned anyway and kissed him back.


	7. Chapter 7

I woke up to find my head on Griffin's chest. We were sprawled on the couch; the TV was still on and Chinese boxes littered the floor.

I looked up at Griffin; he was still sleeping. I lay my hands under my chin and stared at his face. He hadn't changed much, except that his eyes had changed from dark grey to stormy blue. I wasn't even sure how that was possible.

I traced invisible patterns on his skin, weaving my way through the multiple scars that laced his chest. I distantly wondered if the Paladins gave him the scars. I thought back to last night.

We hadn't had sex or anything; it was hard to do anything when the only thing you had was a couch, not to mention Griffin's wound. So we had spent the night curled up, watching movies and just enjoying each other's closeness.

It had been so long since we had been together that it was a relief to just be near him again. Plus, he wasn't a bad kisser. At all.

I still didn't know why I had let him kiss me. He was my best friend, for crying out loud! I mean, not that I hadn't wanted to kiss him. On the contrary. But I figured that he had enough on his mind, what with crazy people trying to kill him and all, to forget about girls.

His hand that was resting on my back started to move. His eyes opened and he looked at me.

I smiled. "Good morning, sunshine."

He pulled a lock of my hair in response. I sat up and pushed him off the couch with my feet, laughing as he tumbled to the floor. He grabbed my foot and pulled me to the ground with him, ignoring my shrieks of protest.

Suddenly I remembered his wound. "Stop, Griffin. I need to check your wound."

He waved me off. "I'm fine, love. I've had worse, you know."

"Yeah, I can tell. But if this one gets infected you won't live to get any more scars," and with that I made him sit up so I could examine the gash in his side.

The wound was looking a little better; a scab had formed and there was only a little discoloring around the cut. I swabbed it with alcohol, ignoring Griffin's hiss, and re-bandaged it.

"Good as new," I said.

"I'm sure."

He grimaced as he pulled a shirt on over the bandage. He plopped down on the couch again, pulling me into his lap and turning on the TV.

"Griffin?"

"Mm?" He mumbled as he rested his chin on my shoulder, playing with my hair.

"I need to go home."

He froze. "Why?"

I sighed. "Because I have college to finish, and mom will be worried about me, and Ollie. It'll only be three more weeks and then I'll be done with school and I can say my goodbyes, and _then _we can be together. But I need to finish this."

I turned my head to look at him. He didn't make eye contact; he simply continued fiddling with my hair.

"Griffin?"

After a few moments, he replied, "Nah, you don't need to go."

"But I have to. I _need _to finish college, and mom is going to worry about me. I can't just up and leave without even saying goodbye."

"Yes you can. She'll get over herself eventually. Just write her a nice little letter or something."

I jumped out of his lap. "NO, Griffin, I can't. Just because you can afford to break people's hearts and leave for thirteen years doesn't mean I can. She's my _mother_, for Pete's sake."

"I didn't want to leave you, Mola. But I had to. So stop blaming me just because you're incapable of getting over someone."

By then we were standing face-to-face, yelling at each other.

"You selfish, unfeeling prick! How can you say that? You were my best friend; did you really expect me to forget you so quickly?"

"Yes! I expected you to move on with your life, and to forget me, to pretend like I had never existed. That was the plan! We were five years old, for Pete's sake!" His face was red with anger.

"Well I didn't. I couldn't, okay, Griffin?" I screamed in his face. "I was a five year old girl who lost her best friend! What, do you think I'd be skipping around throwing flowers everywhere?" My voice cracked and I broke down sobbing.

Griffin stood there for a second, unsure of what to do. Finally, he took a deep breath and enveloped me in his arms, allowing me to drench his shirt with my tears.

"I'm not leaving you again," he whispered into my ear. I wrapped my arms around him tighter. I just didn't want him to disappear again without any notice. I didn't want to be alone again.

It took me a few minutes to regain my composure. I disentangled myself from Griffin's arms and sniffled.

"Is Princess done weeping her pretty little eyes out?" He intoned sarcastically.

I half-heartedly kicked at his shin, which he dodged easily.

"Prick," I mumbled. He chuckled and drew me back onto the couch with him.

We sat there for a few minutes. The couch had sort of become our no-man's-land; we didn't argue or yell or scream when we were there. It was just peaceful, sitting there wrapped in each other's presence. It was comforting. But I knew I had to get back and finish my old life before I could start – or rather, continue – my life with Griffin.

"Griffin," I whispered.

He planted a kiss on my hair.

"Griffin," I whispered again.

He trailed kisses from my ear along my jaw, his hands playing with the ends of my hair.

"Griffin," My whisper sounded a little strangled to me. I hoped he didn't notice.

He captured my lips with his own softly, his hands gently clasping my neck. I ran my fingers through his shaggy hair, pulling him closer to me. I felt him grin as he kissed me harder, allowing his mask to slip as his desire outweighed his need for distance and control.

Finally, I realized that this was getting me nowhere. I pulled back and snapped – as well as I could whilst catching my breath – "Griffin! I'm serious!"

He sighed, saying "I thought you were," and kissing me once more, much more softly this time. Then he stood up.

"Ready to go?" He asked me as he donned his leather jacket.

I frowned. "Go where?"

"Away from this bloody cave, stupid, and back to your place."

I stood slowly. "Yeah. Let's go."

He nodded and stepped towards me. I didn't move. What would it feel like? Would it be painful? No, Griffin would never do something to cause me harm.

As he put his arms around me, I buried my face in his neck, smelling his leather jacket.

"Just remember I trust you," I mumbled into his neck.

I felt more than heard him chuckle. "I remember. Now, take a deep breath."

I obeyed and tightened my hold around his waist.

Suddenly there was a large wind that started blowing. I felt a strong sensation, as if the world was moving around me while I stood still.

As quickly as it had begun, however, the wind stopped and I wasn't being swept through space. I felt Griffin release his hold on me, but I didn't move. He had a very comfortable neck.

"Mola. Mola, it's okay. You can let go now."

I shook my head slightly. I didn't want to look up for fear of what I would see.

I had always known that Griffin could teleport, and I had never doubted his word. However, it was one thing to know a fact, and another to experience the truth of it.

"Mola, trust me," he whispered as he planted a light kiss on my ear.

I shivered at the contact, but still made no move to extricate myself from his jacket.

"Look around you, Mola."

I finally looked up and saw my house. I squinted in the light; dawn was just breaking.

I grinned and walked towards my home, pulling Griffin with me. He stopped short and let go of my hand. I looked back at him quizzically.

"Come on, slowpoke! Mom's going to freak when she sees you."

He didn't say anything; he just looked at me sadly. Then I understood. He couldn't come, because then someone would know he was alive. And more people who knew about Griffin meant more danger to him – and to them.

"You can't come, can you," I whispered. He shook his head.

I walked back to him and hugged him as tightly as I could.

"I have to finish this, Griffin. It's just one of those things."

"I'm aware, Kitten. I'm not a child, believe it or not." He murmured into my hair.

I snorted. "Coulda fooled me." He chuckled.

We stood like that for several seconds, unwilling to move. This was the last time we would see each other for three weeks, after we had been together for the first time in thirteen years, and only for two days.

He whispered, "I'll come get you at your graduation. Be there or be square. Whatever that means."

He pushed my chin upward with his hand and claimed a kiss.

Then he was gone.

I was alone.

I sighed and walked towards my house. Explaining to mum why I had been gone for the better part of two days was not going to be a fun task.


	8. Chapter 8

The next three weeks passed excruciatingly slowly.

After inventing some lame excuse for my disappearance, I listened to my mom rant for nearly an hour about how I shouldn't go running off for two whole days with no warning whatsoever. Then she hugged me and started crying, telling me how worried she had been. I patted her back and told her that I was fine, and that it would never happen again.

Ollie was still Ollie. She dismissed my disappearance as another one of my quirks and continued telling me about her recent trysts and dramas.

I never saw Roland; he had disappeared quicker than he had come.

I never saw Griffin, either. I was disappointed; I had expected him to at least keep an eye on me. But he never appeared. Whenever I saw a flash of leather or shaggy hair, my head would involuntarily jerk up and I would search for my knight in shining leather, but it was never him.

So, I continued my studies. Or rather, I passed through my classes in a daze, dreaming and drawing angels with stormy eyes and leather jackets and scarred bodies.

At night I would lay awake, looking at the ceiling, thinking about Griffin and our impending adventures. Lord knows what that boy had planned, but I was sure it wouldn't be boring.

Finals week came and went. I hid all my drawing supplies and pulled out the textbooks, studying late into the night. My mom fluttered about me, making preparations for my graduation party and the ensuing chaos. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I wouldn't make it to the party, or really any of the plans she had made for me. I'd let Griffin do that.

Finally, graduation day arrived.

I had passed all my classes, getting fairly good grades. My mother was so excited for me. I was excited too, of course, but for entirely different reasons.

Today was the day. Today I would start a whole new life filled with adventure. Today Griffin was coming for me. Today we could start to catch up on all the years the Paladins had stolen from us.

The night before, I had packed a backpack with 200 euro, which I had saved up, a few changes of clothes, and my favorite book, _Around the World in Eighty Days_, and hidden it in the trunk of our car. Those were the only things I would bring with me when Griffin took me.

My mom snapped dozens of pictures of me and Ollie in our academic regalia. I was glad she was so excited, even though I knew that it would only make it harder to leave her in the end.

Mom drove us to the ceremony. I felt butterflies in my stomach as I walked up the stage in a stately and dignified manner. This was a big moment in my life. I was done with school; an era had ended and today was the epoch of the rest of my life.

As we sat to hear the valedictorian's speech, I scanned the crowd. I spotted my mother easily; she was looking at me proudly, and I thought I saw the glint of a tear on her cheek. I smiled at her and continued looking for Griffin.

I didn't see him anywhere in the rows of seats which faced the stage where the graduates sat.

My heart sank. Had he forgotten? Or did he just not care enough to come? I wiped at a tear which had somehow escaped from my eye.

Then we were standing, and everyone was clapping and whistling. I put on a smile as they passed out the certificates.

Suddenly, I heard a whistle join the cacophony of noise and applause. It wasn't the loudest noise, but I _knew _that whistle. I jerked my head around, searching for Griffin. Finally I spotted him, standing in the very back, close to one of the exits. He was wearing his leather jacket of course, and he was clapping and whistling.

For me.

I secretly waved at him and discreetly wiped away another rogue tear. He had come. He hadn't forgotten. I wasn't alone.

Finally the ceremony ended and we were allowed off the stage to greet our parents and relatives.

As we descended the steps, I snagged Ollie into a hug, whispering, "Thanks for everything, Ollie. You're the best."

She snorted, saying, "I'm not disappearing, Maggie." But she returned the hug anyways. Then we parted ways to receive our respective parent's congratulations.

I pushed my way through the crowd to my mom, hugging her tightly.

"I'm so proud of you," she whispered into my ear as we held each other tightly.

"I love you, mom," I choked out.

We stayed like that for a few more seconds before I finally drew back.

"So you're still going to leave?" She asked me, unshed tears glinting in her eyes.

We had already discussed this; she knew that the first thing I wanted to do after I graduated was travel the world. However, we hadn't discussed how soon I would leave.

"Yeah, mom. I need to. I need to see the world. You know that."

She smiled tearfully and nodded. "Then you're probably going to need this." She handed me my backpack.

She wasn't supposed to know about that. She wasn't supposed to know I was planning on leaving to travel the very day of graduation.

I tore my eyes from the backpack to stare at her. She smiled sadly. "It's okay, Mola."

I flinched at Griffin's nickname for me.

"It's okay. I knew you would want to leave as soon as you could. You have my blessing. And take this as a little graduation-slash-good luck gift."

She handed me an envelope. It weighed heavily in my free hand.

"There's 2000 euro in there. To make things easier. I've been saving up ever since you told me you wanted to travel the world. Just don't spend it all at once, okay?"

I laugh-cried and hugged her tightly again, still holding the envelope and backpack in my hands.

"You're the best, mom. I love you."

She nodded and let me go, wiping her tears away. "Just promise you'll write often."

I smiled. "I'll send pictures, too."

We hugged again, knowing this would be the last time we would see each other for a long time.

Walking away from her was harder than I expected. I was walking away from my past; from security and stability. But as I saw Griffin waiting for me, I grinned. Even though I was leaving behind all I had ever known, I was exchanging it for an even better life; a future full of adventure and danger.

As I made my way towards Griffin, someone tall blocked my path. I looked up; it was a balding man in a suit and dark overcoat.

"Miss Harrison, I presume?"

I nodded. "That's me."

He smiled courteously. "I'm Mr. Brand, a member of the faculty here. Pleased to meet you." He held out his hand to shake.

I paused for a second. I hadn't seen this man at the school at all. I mentally shrugged; I didn't really pay that much attention to people anyways. I smiled and shook his hand.

"I was going through your file and realized that there are a few details about your education here that are missing. They're miniscule, really, but I would much appreciate it if you would come to my office so we could sort things out, if you wouldn't mind."

I glanced behind him to Griffin; he was staring at us anxiously, apparently ready to go. That boy was so impatient.

I managed to keep my face calm as I looked back to Mr. Brand. "I wouldn't mind at all. Which way?"

As he led me out of the crowded room, I looked back and smiled reassuringly at Griffin before leaving.

I followed Mr. Brand through a maze of hallways and classrooms. The farther we went, the more unease I felt. We had already passed where most of the faculty's offices were. What was he up to?

Suddenly a noise came from Mr. Brand's jacket. He smiled apologetically and retrieved a phone from his pocket. He murmured words into it quietly enough that I had to strain to catch a few words. What I did hear, though, frightened me.

"Got… girl… O'Connor… exit… attack… girl… leverage…"

That was it. I turned around and _ran._

I heard cursing behind me and heavy footsteps beating rapidly in pursuit, but I didn't stop. Brand was a Paladin, and they were out to get me and Griffin. I had to find him and warn him before it was too late.

I wove my way through the hallways at breakneck speed. Today was _not _going as planned.

I turned a corner and smacked into a wall. Of human flesh.

I looked up and saw a huge black man blocking my path. I turned around and saw Brand blocking my escape, smirking. Someone grabbed me from behind and held a cloth over my nose.

_Not again... _ I thought as I blacked out from the chloroform.

* * *

><p><strong>K guys, I think I'm back to writing this. My other story, I Never Realized, is on hold for now due to lack of proper inspiration. Anyways, please review! Seriously though. Good reviews are like ambrosia for the soul. <strong>


	9. Chapter 9

I woke up feeling confused, sore, and hungry. It could have been hours or even days since I had been abducted; I couldn't tell.

I opened my eyes and was nearly blinded. White walls, white floor, and too much light pervaded my senses. I was in a white shift and cuffed to an uncomfortable shiny silver chair. Beautiful.

As my eyes adjusted to the harsh light, I looked around me. I was in the center of a sizeable room, which, other than the chair I was strapped to, was empty.

"I'm awake now," I yelled to the walls. They didn't answer back.

I waited for hours – or was it minutes? – But nothing happened. I began to worry; wasn't someone going to come in an interrogate me? That was what usually happened in kidnapping situations on the crime shows my mom watched.

And why hadn't Griffin come to save me? Had had said he'd protect me. What if he had also been captured? My stomach turned at the thought.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming behind me. I craned my neck to see who walked in, but I couldn't twist my head far enough.

Finally the intruder walked into sight. She was of middling height, and swathed in a dark overcoat like Brand. Her hair was trimmed into a professional-looking bob, and her eyes were a cold shade of blue. She walked in a very business-like manner, scrutinizing the contents of a manila folder as she turned to face me.

"Miss Harrison?"

I said nothing.

She scanned the folder a few more seconds before glancing up to see why I was responding. She ignored my silence and continued.

"Miss Magnolia Harrison, eighteen years of age, of British descent, born in Hertfordshire May 13, 1994 in Saint Albans City Hospital to Leah and Jacob Harrison. Attended Kingsbury High School and graduated from London Community College of Education on May 21, 2010, and was recently compromised by a certain Jumper, wanted for unspeakable crimes against God and the Paladins, by the name of Griffin O'Connor."

She looked back up at me almost smugly, gauging my reaction. I gave her none; I simply stared at her blankly.

Finally I looked around me, then pointed to myself – well, as best I could with my hands cuffed to the arms of a chair – and said, "Who, me?"

She slammed the folder shut and walked up to me. "Listen sweetheart," she spoke softly. "We need information about O'Connor, and you have it. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but I am going to get that information one way or another, and believe me, you don't want to do this the hard way."

And with that, she snapped her fingers. A white desk rose from the floor in front of me, along with a chair. She walked to the desk and sat in the chair, folding her hands on the top of the desk as she looked at me expectantly.

"So? Which will it be?"

I thought a moment, and then asked, "Can you repeat the question?"

She sighed. "I _said_, do you want to give me the information I need so you can go free, or do you want to stay here until I force it out of you?"

"Is there a third option?"

The woman glared. Apparently Paladins didn't have a healthy appreciation for wit.

"No third option, unless you count death. But that's not going to happen until I find out what I need to know. Now, where had O'Connor been hiding? Where's his center of operations?"

I snorted. "If by operations you mean video games, I'd say the couch."

She sighed. "Okay, next question. How did you encounter Griffin? Was it a chance encounter that connected the two of you or did he plan it?"

"It was definitely a chance encounter. See, what happened was, I was tight-rope walking in Zimbabwe when this freak dressed in a toga falls out of the sky – literally – and "

The woman put a hand up. "That's enough. I can see we're going to have to go about this the hard way."

She pulled some sort of remote from her coat and pressed a button.

I let out an involuntary scream as a bolt of electricity tore through my body; they must have had the chair I was cuffed to hooked up to some sort of electric generator.

By the time the shock had passed through my body I was shaking and breathing hard.

"Aw, you're making me feel all tingly inside," I rasped as I attempted to catch my breath.

The woman glared and waited for me to completely compose myself.

"Now tell me where Griffin will most likely be right now. Does he have a favorite Jump spot or is it sporadic?"

"Oh he's definitely sporadic. One minute he'll be all grumpy and sarcastic, and the next he'll be popping jokes like no one's business. And then there are the times when he gets all anti-social and won't talk to anybody for hours on end."

Another shock ravaged my body. I managed to contain my scream, making no sound as electricity raced along my limbs, inciting agony in every nerve.

"Screw you," I gasped as the pain gradually subsided.

The woman's business-like façade had regressed, and a nasty smirk was pasted on her face.

"On the contrary, Miss Harrison, it's you who are screwed. Now tell me what you know about O'Connor, and maybe I'll let you go alive."

I worked up a glob of saliva and launched it at her. It hit her right on the forehead. A look of rage and shock crossed her face, and I only felt satisfaction for a split second before she pressed another button on that cursed remote and electricity raced through my system again.

"This is going to be fun," I heard her say before another shock violated my body again and I blacked out.


	10. Chapter 10

I was woken up a few minutes later by another shock. Paladins really like electricity, apparently.

I opened my eyes and saw Roland and the woman standing over me.

"What?" I demanded. "Can't a girl get some sleep around here?"

Roland smiled. At least _he _had a sense of humor. Then he pressed a button on the remote and I got electrocuted again. Never mind.

"I love this little contraption," Roland mused as he twirled it in his hand. "So small, and yet it's so very... Convincing."

I snorted. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

His expression turned serious. "Magnolia, quit with the jokes. Last time I checked, _I _was the one with all the power. I want information about O'Connor and you have it. And believe me; I _always _get what I want. Frankly I don't give a damn about what happens to you so if you want to live, I suggest you tell me what you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Listen, grandpa. I know about as much as you do; probably even less, actually. Griffin's just some guy I hooked up with; I don't know what you guys are talking about. Now can I go home?"

Roland sighed. "Do you really think we're going to fall for that? We _know_ you've been involved with Griffin since you were a baby."

"Hey, it was worth a try."

He held his finger above a button on the remote threateningly.

"Okay but I honestly don't know anything about Griffin anymore. It's been thirteen years."

Finally the woman broke in. "But you've been with him for a few days. We _saw _you together. What has he told you?"

"Look woman, he kidnapped me, questioned me, and let me go. I learned _nothing_. I don't know who Griffin is or what he's been doing these past thirteen years, okay? Now shut your trap and let me go."

She turned red with anger and tried to grab the remote, but Roland stopped her.

"Magnolia, if you'll just tell us what we need to know, then we'll let you go and you can go back to your mom, and all this will be just a memory. Or you can refuse to tell us and suffer the consequences, which, I assure you, will not be pretty."

He waved the remote menacingly in my face. I did _not _want to get shocked again. I started to panic.

"I told you already, I don't know anything!" I screamed at him, spraying spit all over his face.

He wiped it away calmly, and then pressed a button on the remote. I screamed in pain and outrage as the electricity ripped through me, setting every cell on fire.

"You people are crazy," I gasped.

Roland smiled. "You don't understand, Magnolia. We're the good guys. Jumpers kill people. They may start out with good intentions, but they're always corrupted sooner or later. Only God should wield the power of omnipotence; everyone else goes bad. They kill people and harm countless others. They need to be eradicated, for the sake of all mankind."

"Before you go preaching, I'd like to point out that I'm in a chair getting shocked for information. And I'm not even a damn Jumper."

"She's got a point, you know," a voice said.

I looked over Roland's shoulder and saw Griffin standing there, hefting his precious baseball bat.

Roland snarled and called for security.

Griffin grinned and Jumped to the woman. Before either she or Roland had time to react, Griffin landed a punch to her jaw that knocked her out cold. As she fell he grabbed something from the inside pocked of her jacket. Then he Jumped out of sight just as Roland tried to tackle him, leaving Roland to fall flat on his face.

Griffin appeared in front of me just as Paladins came rushing in. He fiddled with an item in his hands – keys, which had been what he had taken from the woman's pocket – and tried to fit them into the locks on my cuffs.

As the alarms blared and the Paladins shouted, I yelled, "You're late!"

He rolled his eyes and continued fiddling with the locks.

"BEHIND YOU!" I yelled, warning him about an approaching Paladin.

Griffin disappeared, leaving the key in one of the locks. Then he was all over the place, jabbing and kicking and bruising skulls with his baseball bat.

I tried to unlock my cuffs, but it was hard to do with zero hands.

"Griffin! A little help?" I shouted over the ruckus.

Within the span of a second he Jumped to me. He unlocked one hand, saying, "Just can't do anything on your own, can you."

Then he Jumped on top of a Paladin, shoving her into a group of attackers.

"Behind you again!" I yelled again as I fumbled with the last lock using my one free hand.

Griffin twisted and simultaneously landed a roundhouse kick to the attacking Paladin's jaw.

I got free and stood up, only to be captured by a vengeful Paladin with a gun.

"Stop Griffin, I got her! Now freeze, before I blow her head off!"

I heard a _thunk _behind me and turned around to see my would-be captor lying on the floor, with Griffin standing over him, holding a blood-smeared bat.

I ran to him and as he hugged me I felt a huge wind blow. Then we were back in the cave.

Griffin didn't let me god; he just hugged me tighter. I buried my face in his neck, inhaling deeply. We were both breathing heavily.

Suddenly, Griffin pulled away and gripped my arms, shaking me roughly as he shouted, "Don't ever do that again! Are you daft? Why'd you go with that creep in the first place? I have half a mind to take you back there and let them shock some sense into you. Don't ever scare me like that again!"

And with that he kissed me softly.

That was the last straw. I started crying.

Griffin drew away, a worried expression on his face. I just clung to his shirt and wept.

This whole being kidnapped and electrocuted deal had taken its toll on me. My nerves were frayed, and Griffin had a very nice shoulder.

He sighed and held me, rubbing my back comfortingly, saying nothing. That was good. Talking was stupid.

Then he picked me up bridal style and sat on the couch, positioning me so that I was in his lap.

I continued crying for another five minutes or so before I finally managed to regain my composure.

"Sorry about your shirt," I apologized as I sniffled.

He grinned. "No problem."

Then he took his shirt off and threw it to the ground a few feet away.

I rolled my eyes. "Showoff," I muttered as I snuggled against his bare chest.

He chuckled, but didn't refute the claim.

We stayed silent for a few minutes before he asked, "So you're not hurt?"

"So you ask me this _after_ you shake me so hard I think my eyes got knocked askew?"

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was just frustrated with your utter stupidity."

"Well I apologize for being kidnapped and electrocuted multiple times. I'll try harder to not get taken against my will again."

"Good, that."

I poked a bruise that had formed on his arm. He flinched and flicked me on the cheek lightly.

"That hurt," he murmured.

"It was supposed to. You're a big fat jerk."

"But a very attractive big fat jerk."

"As you wish."

I could hear his eyes rolling.

Then he threw me out of his lap and stood up.

"Get some sleep," he ordered. "We're going somewhere special tomorrow."

He kissed me quickly and disappeared.

I sighed and lay down on the couch, covering myself with a ratty blanket.

There was no way I was going to sleep anytime soon. I had too much to process. It was going to be a long and lonely night.


End file.
